Stand By Me
by Phoenix II
Summary: Style, AU.  8 years ago, the boyband Fingerbang became a national sensation. Now, on tour, lovers Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski have to deal with screaming fans, stupid Fatasses, and Kyle’s Back, which is by far the greater evil.
1. Chapter 1

**Stand By Me**

**Disclaimer: Maybe a COUPLE of the song lyrics are mine. Fingerbang, and South Park in General, is not.**

**Summary: 8 years ago, the boy-band Fingerbang became a national sensation. Now, on tour, lovers Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski have to deal with screaming fans, stupid Fatasses, and Kyle's Back, which is by far the greater evil.**

**Author's Notes: Any time Kyle says something in this story, it is almost certain that it was written by Flabz. She and I put about four days into getting all the dialogue for this via MSN, and persisted in nagging me to turn it into the story it deserves. Also…this story was inspired by: . It's really what set it all off.**

**-.-**

"_Ba-by, I'm gonna thrill ya – ALL – NIGHT – LONG!_" And with that, Fingerbang closes out its set at Pershing Center in Lincoln, Nebraska…the last stop on this leg of our new tour to promote our sixth album: _What You Do To Me_. It's been going on for a month now, a new city every other day, and I'm starting to feel the strain. Lately, the only thing that's been keeping me going is walking off stage just ahead of me. As soon as he's safely off, I sprint to catch up, pinning him to some of the set and giving him a needy kiss.

"I want to rape you now," I tell Kyle, with a smile on my face.

"And?" he asks in reply, kissing me back.

"Mm…I dunno…but I don't think I can wait for the hotel!" I shower him with kisses, which breaks up his reply into more manageable segments.

"Oh, fuck, Stan…me neither, but…mmm…what about the people with backstage passes?"

"Fuck 'em. Let's send 'em to Fatass for a while, make him think he's important, boost his ego."

"Dude. Fatass doesn't need ego boosting. Nowhere nearly as much as I need you…"

"I feel that, Ky…mmm…" I say, moving down to his neck and giving him another reason to wear the collar on his white jacket up around it, when we hear a squeal from behind us that can mean only one thing…fangirls.

"Oh. My. GAWD!" says the one that appears to be in charge. "Look! They're practically having sex RIGHT BEFORE OUR EYES! It's sooooooooo much hotter than what Kenny described in Cosmo, too!! Girls, we must follow them, and watch!"

"Erm...do we get a say in this?" Kyle asks, waving a finger back and forth between us to indicate who exactly he refers to when he says "we."

"The people who are practically having sex on stage want a say on whether or not we get to see them do it in private?" the leader asks incredulously. "Hmm...NO!!"

"Damn," I say. "They got us there, Ky."

"We have you forever, get used to it!" Somewhere inside that girl is maniacal laughter, just waiting to burst forth.

"No, WE have EACH OTHER forever! Get used to it! We're only each other's!!" Kyle says, wrapping his arms around me to emphasize his point. And a damn good point it is. We may be rich and famous pop stars, but my love still has his brain, and knows how to use it.

A collective "Awwwwwwwww" is the response to his statement, interspersed with exclamations of "That's so sweet!!" A distraction is in order to facilitate our escape from these bitches…

"Kyle..." I say, tilting his chin up to look at me.

"Stan..." he replies, misty-eyed.

What follows is a rather intense bout of making out that leaves the fangirls speechless, but no less closer to being out-of-our-way than before. We shall have to perhaps actually do it in front of them to effectively clear them…and nothing works better than Kyle being the dominant for that task. Communicating my plan through Eyebrow Waggling Code, Kyle and I strip off our clothes, and I allow myself to be pushed against the set and entered by Kyle.

The look on the faces of the fangirls goes beyond speechless. I don't think I've ever seen Kenny this excited about porn. I mean…these girls get to see something that's not exactly a spectator sport, especially not with us.

"It's working, they're about to pass out from the joygasm," I whisper without moving my lips much, before changing pitch and screaming, "OH KYLE FUCK YEAH!!!"

"Yay! Limo's out back," he whispers back, before shouting "OH MY GOD, STAN!!"

We continue to sex each other up…or shall I say, I continue to allow Kyle to sex me up. The fangirls have a look on their faces of rapt attention, and there's a look that something's about to blow. They're holding back what must be mind-blowing orgasms from watching us, just so they can continue to watch us. I don't think I will ever understand the phenomenon that is the fangirl.

"Oh! Oh oh oh oh! KYYYYYYYYYYYLE!! More!!" I exclaim, as he hits his stride…and my prostate.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck STAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!" is his response, as his breathing starts to get ragged. That's one of his little tells…he's close.

We continue our little semi-private peep show, both to the pleasure of ourselves and the sensory overload of the fangirls who seem very much on the verge of passing out from the intensity of our sex. I mean, face it…gay sex hasn't been this hot since Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal, and to the best of my knowledge, they never ACTUALLY did it.

"Oh! God!! You! Are! So! Fucking! Great! At! The! Sex!! FUUUUUUUUUCK!" I exclaim, as one of Kyle's hands slides down to give attention to my own need.

"You're my hot! lithe! Great! Sexy! Boi!! LOVEYOUUUUUUUU!!!" he replies, pumping his hand up and down. The fangirls are incredulous. A couple are unconsciously fanning themselves, and tugging at their collars in an attempt to alleviate some of the body heat building up from their staring. Serves the bitches right. Kyle, to his credit, appears to be concentrating solely on himself and me, allowing me to monitor the greater situation, and to let him in when we're safe.

However, as he continues, he starts shuddering. His orgasm is coming close, and if the subconscious muscle contractions are any indication, so are mine. They'd better drop soon, or else we might have discovered an insidious new, sex-resistant, breed of fangirl. Thankfully, these worries are unfounded and purged from my head almost immediately after, because the fangirls, almost in unison, let out a large moan of their own and collapse to the floor, fainting. I communicate this to Kyle first with a nod, encouraging him to speed up so we can go, and he does. Within thirty seconds of the collapse, I scream "KYLE!!" and orgasm, spooging all over Kyle's stomach, and he screams "STAN!!" and spooges deep within me. We hurriedly collect as much of our clothing and dress, sliding on boxers, pants, and are about to put on our colored tees when the first fangirl begins to stir. Quickly throwing the shirts aside, we throw on our jackets and run for the limo.

From somewhere behind us, I hear a fangirl, the leader, shrilly screeching "DON'T THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE THAT EASY!!" as we jump into the limo, slamming the door shut behind us and startling our driver.

"Drive, Jacques, DRIVE!!!" the both of us scream, as Kyle reaches for the napkins in the minibar to clean my spooge off his stomach so it doesn't get all over his jacket. Behind us, if the shrill shrieks of rage are any indication, the fangirls are throwing a fit.

I can hear the leader screaming that "Some of you must sacrifice yourselves to ensure they cannot escape us! CHASE!!!" But then Jacques finally gets the limo in gear and peels out of the parking lot, heading for I don't even know where. Probably Starbucks. At any rate, it doesn't matter to me, as I busy myself with trying to kiss Kyle again.

Kyle, on the other hand, is looking out the back window, and pulls away from my kissing attack. "Ahh... Dude... Look!" he says, pointing out the back window.

I look, and am decidedly not thrilled. "Oh," I say lamely. "Shit...JACQUES!!!" I scream, attracting the driver's attention through the privacy screen and getting him to pick up the intra-compartment phone.

"Sirs?" he asks, when we pick up ours as well.

"FASTER!!" Kyle and I scream into it, hanging up.

"I wish you were yelling that for a different reason!" I exclaim, giving Kyle a predatory once-over.

"Once we escape from the damn fangirls, I will!" he promises.

"God damn those fans! Why can't they just leave us alone?" I rant. "I mean... I wanna hear you scream my name," I say, pouting.

"See why I told Fatass this was a bad idea?" he asks.

I nod. "Uhhh… why did we go along with him in the first place?"

"Money for a hot tub and a waterbed," he replies.

"Oh yeah..."

"To fulfill that dream of yours," he says.

"Yours too!" I remind him. "But hey... we DO have it now. This concert was the last one we needed!" At least, that's what our accountant had told me when we'd consulted him last regarding our money and taxes and stuff, and after we'd signed the new contract.

This idea is evidently a good thought to Kyle. "Thank God," he says. "But hey, you're cute singing, d'ya know that?"

"And this outfit IS kinda neat..." I muse. Not that I like doing all this stupid shit, I don't…I actually sort of miss South Park and the rest of the kids we grew up with, and will be graduating soon, without us. No, we have tutors and online classes for that…they say it counts towards SPHS credit, and that we can go receive our diplomas for that, but I think they're lying to us…

"Hehe, white suits us pretty well," Kyle says, playing with the buckles on his jacket.

"Even if we're nowhere CLOSE to pure," I say. At least…I'm pretty sure that's what that color signifies. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

"Which explains the blue and green under-shirts," he points out. Oh right…the blue and green undershirts. That are now strewn about backstage somewhere. Or, more likely, have been stuffed in some Queen Fangirl's purse for either inclusion in her Stan/Kyle shrine or auction on eBay. I dunno…I think we'd be even hotter if we just performed open-jacketed…

"Which just make us TOTALLY hotter," I reply, because they DO bring out our eye colors. "Like, five times hotter than normal...and I wouldn't've thought that possible for you!" Hehe…brownie points for me!!

"I can think of one thing hotter," he replies with a sly grin.

"Oh yeah...famous sex is TOTALLY better," I say. "Why do it in a lousy motel room when you can do it in a Hotel Suite?"

"Huge bed, soft mattress, dim lights, candles, music... What can get any better?" he says, snuggling up to me, and seemingly off in a daze.

"A moonlit night and a Kyle to make love to during it," I answer.

"Oh yes," he says, "that does sound nice…"

"Jacques!" I call, and he rolls down the privacy screen.

"Sir?" our driver of the past five years answers. He's a rather cool guy for one with a French name. Better than the pervy Irishman we had to fire for getting Kenny drunk and sending him to spy on us, back when we were first discovering our feelings.

"Back to the hotel!" I announce. He appears to have been nearing the exit anyway, but it can't hurt to make it official.

"What about those crazy fangirls?" Kyle asks.

"We'll use the service entrance!" I reply, and Jacques nods and puts the screen back up.

"Ahhh the joys of being rich, it's worth getting on stage, singing a bunch of half assed songs, enduring ear blowing screams, just for this..." Kyle says.

I hug Kyle closely, and reply "You know it, my love..." as we exit the Interstate to stop at a red light…I guess, I can't see anything out the windows.

Kyle wraps his arms around me. "Stupid traffic. Hurry up..." he murmurs impatiently.

"We'll be there in no time, Kyle," I reassure him. "Don't worry..."

"People should move outta the damn way when they see a god damn limo..." he says, nuzzling my neck, as we get moving again. Less than five minutes later, the limo pulls up at back door of the hotel.

"We're here!" I announce happily. "Do you need me to carry you or are you alright?"

"Mmmm, whatever you want," Kyle replies tiredly as Jacques opens the door.

"Carrying you it is then! Then I can just lay you out on the bed and sit down to the Kyle Buffet!" I say.

"Hehe, all you can eat," he returns.

"I can eat quite a bit, when I'm in the mood for Kyle," I say, waggling my eyebrows.

"It's unlimited for you."

"Damn right it is!" I reply.

"Heh," he says, "in fact, it's all only for you."

"Damn right it is!!" I say, as we reach the elevator.

To the elevator attendant, I say "Top floor, please!"

"Never get tired of hearing that," Kyle says into my neck.

"Five minutes, you can hear it all you want," I reply.

"Hear what? 'Top floor please?' Oh God, I'm worried those crazy fans will be here. I mean ... They aren't ... Human." Kyle says, saying what almost all famous people probably think about their fangirls. They're not, really…

"Oh, that?" I answer. "I thought you were talking about me saying 'Damn right it is.' There won't be any fangirls on our floor, it's restricted to us and our people, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right. Still ... they always manage to get back stage," he says.

"It's the damn radio stations givin' out backstage passes. And Cartman lettin' them cuz he thinks HE'S got the fangirls. Idiot..."

"Yeah, the fact they come flocking to us, and always kill Kenny in the process, doesn't that tell him something? Stupid bloody fat ass ... son of a fuckin bitch, damn fucker," Kyle says, rambling and continuing to curse Cartman in what I believe to be three separate languages, all the way up to the top floor.

The elevator dings, and I carry Kyle off. Our floor only has a few rooms on it, so there's not that much of a walk from the elevator to our suite.

"Kyle?" I ask.

"What?" he replies.

I kiss him. "Shut up."

"But ... rambling, it's what I do best Stan..."

"No," I say with another kiss, while going through my pockets for the room key, "what you do best is ME!"

"Oh yeah, good point," he says as I open the door and swing it open. "OK... One thing about suites I hate..."

"What's that, Ky?" I ask, walking inside.

"Suites are too damn big. There's too much space between the front door, and the bedroom." Oh yeah. Jesus, the door to the bedroom's WAY over there…are we in the Goddamn Presidential Suite? Shit…

"Well," I say, running my bare feet through the carpet, "the carpeting's lush enough, if you think your back can handle it for one night?" Kyle's back has been unusually sensitive lately…it's been a real bother, preventing us from getting the most out of our suites. But in one as lavish as this…Jesus Damn if we don't, we're the stupidest men alive.

"Hmmm…" he says, pondering the offer. "OK!"

"Yay! And we don't have to do much but get off coats and trousers..." Actually, we don't really have ANYTHING to get off but coats and trousers."

"Practically nothing to 'em as there is," he says. It's not quite the truth, but it's a good sentiment. "Which is perfect for moments like this."

"Damn right!!" I say with a kiss, removing Kyle's jacket and laying him down on the lush carpeting.

"Hey..." Kyle exclaims, "This is nice carpet!"

"See?" I ask. "Won't hurt you for one night."

"Hmm, it better not!" he says. "Don't think we'll uhhh ... Make a mess or anything, do ya?"

"The record company has renter's insurance on it. I plan to make all the mess we can tonight!" I say, going for Kyle's pants, sliding both them and his boxers off, leaving him naked on the soft carpet.

"Oh..." he says. "I didn't know that. Hehe, we'll leave an indent on the carpet I bet!"

"Goddamn right!" I insist with another kiss. Kyle seems a bit insistent this time. A quick glance downward shows me the reason why. Kyle is "excited."

"Oh, are you ready for me already, love?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, you know I am- Ouch..." he says with a wince.

"Ouch, Kyle?"

"Yes 'ouch'. Just a bit of pain in the lower back ... stupid floor. But, so far to bed..." he says, trailing off with a sigh, "can't win..."

"OK, that does it, tomorrow morning, we're taking you to a chiropractor!" I say. "Fine then ... to bed. It makes no difference to me, as long as you're not in pain."

"Awwww no, too far!" he insists, pulling me on top of him again. "Staaaaaaan!"

"Kyle, Bed!!" I insist. "I don't want to break you!!" I scoop him up, naked, and make for the bedroom door.

"God damn it," he mutters, "there's a couch over there, it's closer ..."

"Couchbed?" I ask. "It won't be as comfy...you sure?"

"Well, let's try," he says. "Like I said, it's closer."

"I really don't mind...and I'd have to put you down to pull out the bed."

"Oh God... I don't win either way!" he despairs. "OK never mind, to the bedroom! It's further away, but at least you don't leave me at any point."

"Better for you anyway," I say. "See, I can't leave you, cuz without me you lose all your common sense."

"Hehe, oh you know it. I go crazy without you, and not the nice crazy that's about to happen."

I chuckle. "We're two WILD and CRAAAZY guys!! Rawr!!" I say, making a fake clawing motion with my left hand.

"Hahaha... But before all that... ARE WE IN THE FUCKING BEDROOM YET?" he shouts.

"Yes, we're in the fucking Bedroom yet! It's just ten more steps to the bed."

"OH GODDAMN IT!! 10 STEPS? FLOOR! FLOOR NOW!!" Holy SHIT is he impatient. But the floor isn't good for his back. I don't know what difference the bed will make, but maybe he'll at least be able to tolerate it.

"No!" I insist. "I will throw you on this bed and jump in after you if you keep this up, Ky..."

"TOO FAR, FLOOR IS CLOSER DAMN IT!!" Kyle, Goddamnit, GIVE me a minute!!

"OK, THAT DOES IT! You are getting ravished on that bed and that's FINAL!"

"REALLY?" he yells. "IT SEEMS TO BE TAKING A WHILE TO GET THERE!! F-L-O-O-R!!"

I sigh, and swing Kyle onto the bed. While he bounces from the impact, I shed my own jacket and trousers and leap to pin him once he settles into the bed.

"THERE!" I say. "You're on the effin bed now! Prepare for ravishing!"

"GOD, IT TOOK YOU LONG E-FUCKING-NOUGH!! I BET YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE DIDN'T YOU ASSHOLE?" he shouts.

"What'd I tell you about shutting up, huh?" I ask, roughly. "Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?" I continue in the rough tone, punctuating it with a rough kiss.

"Want me to 'shut up' huh?" Kyle asks.

"Shut up and let me ravish you, yep yep," I reply.

"Fine... I'll 'shut up.'" His devious tone suggests he's going to do something I'm probably not gonna like.

"Well, you can still scream my name and stuff, just...no rambling! This isn't the time!" I insist. It's not! Sex is time for putting out and shutting up.

"But ...You told me to 'shut up.'" He sounds quizzical, and innocent. I hate it when he pulls this act…we are SO not innocent.

"SEX is not a time for TALKING, Kyle!!!" I say, frustrated, pressing against Kyle, so he can see what I would much rather be doing.

"Ahhhh… fine, fine, just do it," he says, sounding a little resigned to the fact that my hormones are gonna wreak havoc on his ass.

"One Kyle-ravishing 'Come'ing right up!!" I say, adjusting my position to press INTO Kyle.

"Mmmm Stan...niiiiiice...This bed is so nice!!" he exclaims, running his hands through the sheets and blankets. I continue to sex Kyle up, but he doesn't even appear to be noticing. Goddamn him…he's not THAT loose, and I'm not THAT small…he knows I'm inside him, he's just fucking with me.

"VERY nicccccccce...So soft!" See? See what I have to deal with?

"...Ky?" I ask, playing my part even while continuing the sex, "Anything you're feeling besides the bed?"

"Oh godddd yesssss... I can't ignore the soft blanket... so niccccccce!" Goddamn him.

'Hmm,' I think, 'maybe the couchbed would've been a good idea after all.'

I increase my pace, and go deep enough to hit his prostate. I KNOW his body well enough to know that that's his prostate…I wonder if that'll do the trick.

"How about now?" I ask.

"HOLY SHIT STANNN!!" he exclaims, "THIS PILLOW IS SO FUCKIN SOFT!" He's got this look in his eye…like he's surveyin' me.

'OK, he's gotta be messin' with me...but the soft pillow sounds good... NO! After!!' I think, refocusing on my task of sexing up my boyfriend.

"KYLE!!!" I exclaim, trying to regain his attention.

"OH GOD STAN... MY BACK FEELS SO GOOD THIS BEDDDDD IS HEAVEN MMMMMMM GODDDDDDDDDD!!" Well, just goes to show the lengths Ky will go to pay me back for something.

"Oh Fuck! Oh...Kyle...!!!" I have to slow down. If I keep up this pace, I'm gonna blow, and I want Kyle paying attention for that.

Surprisingly, he pulls me closer. "Come on Stan, show me the best part of this bed, love." Ok! Apparently he's noticed and decided enough Stan-torture is enough Stan-torture.

'About fuckin time!!' I think, resuming my slow thrusting. "The best part of this bed is the fact that we're both in it together, joined together as only we can be..." I say, as each thrust is aimed to hit his prostate and drive him wild.

"Mmmmmm damn right!" he replies. "Only the two of us! As it always will be, bed, couch, floor, bathroom, kitchen, ANY-FUCKING-WHERE!!"

"Yessssssssssssss...Kyle!!! I'm...gonna...oh, SHIT!" I moan, because he only JUST NOW started paying attention, and it's not gonna last long at all…

"Oh God Stan..." he moans, squirming beneath me.

"Mmm...Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk!!!" I exclaim, shooting off inside him. "Ky...le...I...lo-ve...you!!"

Kyle's breathing is ragged once again. "Fuck... Love you too Stan... SO fucking much!" he exclaims.

"Mmm...God. You want a crack at me? I wanna experience the soft bed!"

"Heh, of course love, I'd love- Ouchhhh... God fucking damn it... What the fuck is wrong with my back? God, it couldn't wait 5 minutes could it?" GOD DAMN IT!! I want Kyle on top of me…so I can tease HIM with the damn soft bed…

"Aww...well, I guess I could ride you...but you'd better be ready to go off pretty quick! I want to sleeeeep...tonight's been pretty damn active!!"

"Stan, it's YOU!" he announces. I'm confused.

"...Yeah, it's me...what?" I ask, looking at him funny.

"I can never hold out long with you." A shy grin and a blush accompany this, as if its something to be embarrassed about.

"Oh, perfect!!"

"Hehe, indeed..." Kyle chuckles, his blush deepening.

"Well then! And Little Kyle's even all ready for me..."

With that, I slink up Kyle's body and slowly allow myself to be penetrated by Kyle for the second time that night. God, it's weird from this angle. I dunno HOW the pornstars do it.

"Fuck...this seems so much easier when YOU do it..." I say.

"MMmmmm... It's a new challenge for you Stan," he says encouragingly, as my mind searches for something to compare this to.

"Hmm...it's like Squats...I just bounce?" I ask, receiving a nod from Kyle. "Yeah? Up and down and up and down and...hey, this ISN'T that bad!!" Now that I'm moving, it's just like lying down, only rotated ninety degrees. It feels just like normal…Kyle inside me, hitting all my sensitive spots…yep. JUST like normal.

"Oh God, you can say that again. Guess my sore back has finally come through... God, last time I do you on a hard set." Hehe…I didn't really see him complaining at the time, but it sorta WAS outta necessity. How the hell else were we to escape from those psychotic fangirls without killing them?

"Oh yeah...first thing tomorrow, we're checking out of here, takin' the bed with us, and THEN we're taking you to a back doctor...I want you all mmm...better!" I say, continuing to bounce up and down on him.

"MMmmmm yes to the first, yes to the second, NO to the third! No doctors...MMmmmmmm…" Goddamnit, Kyle, don't be stubborn about this! It's for your own good this time! No way can a backache be indicative of a serious medical problem that's gonna kill you.

"Not going to the doctor results in a life of uke-dom for you, Ky!" I tease, leaning forward and changing the angle of entry, causing Kyle to hit a PARTICULARLY pleasurable spot. "OH, damn!!!"

"Oh...Oh God damn it...No...wait...YESS!" Hahaha…always give Kyle risky propositions during sex. He'll never be able to say no for long.

"Mmm...knew you'd - OH - see it my way!! mmm..." I moan, continuing to change my positioning frequently to further stimulate my boyfriend.

"No...doctors...mmmmmmmmm," he replies.

"Kyyyle! You know you want to - OH- mmm...do me actively, have me squirming beneath you..." I'd let him do me as often as he wanted, if he'd only go see the doctor to fix his back.

"Mmmm God Yes, I do... Awww but...I don't wanna go doctors -OHHH-!" Bingo. There's his problem…he's never really known any doctors outside the bottom-of-the-class imbeciles at Hell's Pass.

"We'll go to one of the best in the country, Ky! Spare no...mmmm... expense! I want you at your best again!!" Because without Kyle at his best, WE'RE not at OUR best. Besides…there's something to be said for traditional love-making. This riding stuff…it's enjoyable, but I'd rather ACTUALLY be on bottom if I'm going to be taking him up my ass…

"Mmmm- no, no, no, no, no, no, no...STAN..."

"YES! Kyle!!! Oh, God..." How can he continue to say no to something we BOTH know he needs right now? Sex is a cure-all for a lot of things, but back pain ISN'T one of them.

"MMMmmm NO...no, no... YES... no to doc...YES TO...MMMMMMMM GOD STAN!!" he shouts, bucking and shooting off inside me, as I continue to ride him to milk him for all he's worth.

"Shit! Kyle...!!! Oh fuck yeah...Kyle...why no to the doctor?" I ask as his orgasm subsides, and I can lie on top of him. "Don't you want to be able to do me with out having to worry about any pain?"

"...no doctor Stan... hate doctors... I mean… no, no, no...Stan..."

"Not even for me?" I ask, using the puppy dog eyes. "I want my Kyle at his best..."

"...Don't look at me like that..." he says. "Oh Stan...awwwwwwwwwwww..."

"Kyyyyyyyyle...I PROMISE it won't hurt."

"It will! It will hurt!" he insists, teary-eyed.

"But just once! And then, never ever again! We'll take you to Johns Hopkins, they have the best everything! And he'll tell you what's wrong, what needs fixing, how to fix it, and then you'll be PERFECT! My perfect little Kyle..." I say, stroking his cheek.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh... God damn it...f-...fine..." he says, still unsure about the entire arrangement. Once he gets to see a GOOD doctor for once, maybe these insane fears of his will clear up.

"But first...let's sleep in this wonderful bed that I'll move Heaven and Earth to get sent home!" I say, rolling off him to my side of the bed, snuggling into the pillow and pulling the covers up around us.

"Well you better be careful not to end up with my back," he says. "God, I don't get it. Why is it so sore?" he asks, confused.

"I dunno, Ky...I wish I did, I can't wait until I do, but I don't," I reply, honestly and candidly.

"Well... I can complain more in the mornin', and you can shut me up again in the morning," he says with a sly grin.

"That I can. That I can..." I say.

"Good, good," he says, and tries to roll over, which apparently sends another twinge of pain through his back. "Ouch... god damn it..."

I pull Kyle in tight, holding him firmly against my chest. "Stay there and don't move," I say.

"Oww... fine, fine, won't move…"

"And why would you want to anyway?"

"Yeah good point... it kills to move..." Not exactly what I was going for, but…

"Poor Kyle..." I say, stroking his hair.

"Mmmmm..." he says, giving me a sad look. "It hurts."

"I'm sorry love...I wish I could help...but tomorrow, we're flying to Baltimore!!" I announce happily. Kyle frowns at this proposition.

"Oh damn plane seats… they're a killer..." he whines.

"Private Jet, Ky," I remind him. "Y'know, the one we had a bed put in?"

"Oh yeah!" he says, brightening. "No fat ass ... Just us."

"And the pilots, but they're in their own little room," I remind him with a yawn. "Just us...God I'm tired love..."

"Awww then go to sleep love," he says, with something of an envious tone.

"You too!! Don't let your back keep you up all night again...remember, we're gonna fix it tomorrow!" I say, settling into my pillow but not letting my grip on Kyle diminish one bit.

"One night left of no sleep... Finally!" he murmurs, barely audible.

"Good night, my darling..." I trail off, shutting my eyes and drifting off.

**Kyle's POV**

"Night Stan," I say, watching him close his eyes and drift off, relaxing in a way I haven't been able to since two months ago. God, I'm so tired. I wanna sleep, but I can't. There's just too much pain. With a sigh, I curl into him and start staring at the wall, just as I will for the next eight hours waiting for him to wake up.

God DAMN this fucking back of mine…


	2. Chapter 2

**Stand By Me- Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: Still not ours.**

**Summary: The next morning. Stan must persuade Kyle to visit a doctor for his back. Begins Kyle's POV, switches to Stan's later on.**

**Author's Notes: Mkay. Here's the second part. It's already longer than the first…I'm a bit worried. O.o**

**-.-**

It's around nine A.M. according to the clock on the bedside table when I feel Stan stir behind me. He turns over, stretches, and nudges my shoulder. "Ky? You awake?" he asks.

'Awake? I never slept with this pain,' I think, before responding "Yeah, I am..."

"You want breakfast? Or should I get the plane ready to go to Baltimore?"

'Oh God... doctors...meh.' "BREAKFAST!!" I insist, quite vociferously.

"Alright, I'll get on the phone to room service. Whaddaya feel like having? Pancakes with strawberries and crème?" he asks.

I'm too stressed out to even pick up on what is quite likely supposed to be a sexy hint. "Huh? Wha, oh yeah sure, great anything..." I reply. 'Ohhh why did I agree to go to doctors?'

"Ky...you sure you're alright?"

Damn he reads me like a book. "Oh yeah, great..."

He doesn't sound convinced at all. "...If you say so," he replies, and I can tell there's a shrug that accompanies that as he picks up the phone.

"Room service order for 1701. I need a three egg omelet, wheat toast with butter on the side, two glasses of orange juice, and a stack of pancakes with strawberries and crème, extras on both the berries and the crème," he says, and pauses to listen to a response.

"Right. OK, thanks." He says, hanging up the phone.

"Half an hour," he tells me. "You wanna shower first?"

"Oh, right. Sounds great. Shower sounds nice," I answer disjointedly. At least the water might help this fucking back a little. I hope I can get up...

"I can shower with you if you need help…" Stan offers/inquires.

"Uh, ok. That sounds good, I don't wanna fall and make it worse. Uh... Could you help me get up?" I ask with an embarrassed blush, feeling the knots that are forming in my damaged back. God damn…it's absolutely unbearable. I just WISH I wasn't so damned afraid of hospitals and doctors.

"Sure, Ky. Anything for you," he says, walking over to my side of the bed and extending a hand.

"Heh, thanks Stanny..." I say, taking his hand, pulling myself up without too much pain.

"See, it's not that hard," Stan encourages. "And the bathroom's a lot closer than the front door..."

"Yeah, not THAT bad," I admit. "OH, thank God. I don't wanna walk anymore then what I have to..." I say, rubbing my lower back. "God, what the hell did I do to it?"

"I'll feel absolutely horrible if you fucked it up that night of the Dallas concert ... we DID get pretty wild that night..."

"Hehe, hell what we did that night, it wouldn't surprise me," I say, kissing Stan lightly. "Don't you dare even think of this being your fault."

"You're right Ky," he agrees, "it's not MY fault you can't resist me."

"Well... THAT is your fault, not that I ever complain about it, or ever will."

"Well, that's great to hear! C'mon, let's get you into the shower. We undressed last night." Nice tactful hint that we're both still naked at nine thirty in the morning without a hint of shame.

"Hehe, OK..." I say, starting to walk towards the bathroom. Oh God, it hurts more when I walk. I guess I didn't notice last night since Stan carried me everywhere.

"Don't worry...the nice hot water'll loosen your back up lickety-split, then we can eat, then we'll go fly off to have you repaired!"

"Shush... I don't wanna think of doctors right now," I say.

"Well, after this and breakfast, you'll have PLENTY of other things to think about while we're on the plane."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah I know," I say. I'm totally scared shitless thinking of doctors.

Stan turns on the shower. "Come on, worry-wart. Let's clean you up."

"... OK..." I say, looking longingly at the bath. "I bet that would be more comfy..." I mutter.

"We've only got about twenty minutes before the food comes, Ky!" Stan says chastisingly. "C'mon ..." he whines, turning on the puppy dog eyes.

Damn those eyes! "OK... Sorry for being such a pain..." I say, accepting his offer of aid into the shower.

"I'm sorry you _**have**_ such a pain," Stan says, testing the water.

"It's PERFECT!" he declares.

I let the water hit my back. "Oh, God. That's heaven..."

Stan has a glare on his face. I do this often enough, I have a pretty good idea of what he's thinking. It would be something along the lines of 'Oh, great, now he's comparing me to water...'

"Stan...you're not honestly jealous of water are you?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Well, it HAS been like...three weeks since you were like that with me...ever since your back started hurting," he reminds me.

"Awwwwwww my poor Stanny, C'mere…" I say, teasing him. "We can if you're... you know... just, gentle."

"Aww, Kyle...I'm ALWAYS gentle, unless you tell me otherwise."

"Heh, I know you are," I reply. "But you know, just _**really**_ gentle this time..."

"Really gentle. Right. Can-do, Ky..." he says, leaning in for a kiss.

"Good boy," I say, pulling him closer. "No pushing me against the wall!" I admonish.

"Mmm, obviously," he replies. "Makes it a little more difficult, but a LOT more manageable."

"Mmmm, I'm sure you'll manage," I say, kissing him again. "C'mon Stanny, make me forget this awful pain."

"By your command!!" he says, kissing back. "Mm...Kyle...oh, what if room service comes in?"

"Well... They'll leave the food and go... they won't come looking for us in the bathroom," I say assuredly.

"Let's just hope the douche doesn't want a fucking tip..." he says.

"Well, he'll find more then he bargained for if he looks for us. Perhaps we should put a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the bathroom door?" I ask.

"And waste valuable Kyle-time? We'll just demand he pay us later," he says with a cocky grin.

"Look, we won't even hear him..." I say exasperatedly.

"Good!" he says, rearing back before bursting into a song from our…third album. "_Because you need some TLC, and babe ... it's comin' from me!_"

"Hehehe, love when you sing," I say dreamily.

"I love when you do anything," he says, kissing me and pulling me close. "Mm...frontways while we're both standing. This WILL be tricky..."

"Mmmm I'm sure you'll pull it off!" I reply.

"Hmmm... Adjust the shower so I can lean against the back wall here and bring you in close, and the water'll still hit your back," he explains.

"Oh good idea, that'll be nice," I reply.

"You know it!" he says, making the rearrangement and finding he CAN slide into me.

"Yes! Allright, Ky!" he says enthusiastically, slowly thrusting into me.

I wrap my arms around Stan. "Mmmmm that's... ouch..." I murmur. God damn these twinges in my back! I've gotta get through this for Stan, he's been such a dear for me.

"Kyle? You want me to stop?" he asks, actually stopping to ask. He's such a great and conscientious guy…

"Uh... No it's OK, I know you want to," I say.

"But do YOU want me to? That's all that really matters, Ky..." I really don't deserve him. I mean…how many other guys can say their boyfriend cares so much about their well-being to give up SEX, of all things, to make sure they're all right.

"Of course I _**WANT**_ you to! But, I dunno if I can right now..."

"Oh, to be a goddamn doctor, so I would already KNOW what the hell's wrong with that pesky back of yours..." he says, with a sigh. "I suppose I can make do with giving you your 'surprise' at breakfast..."

"I'm so sorry," I say, not meeting his eyes. "Sorry..."

"Hey..." he whispers, raising my head to eye level. "Don't be. So your back's a dick, so what? I'm here for you, and I'll help you however I can."

"God, I LOVE YOU!!" I say, kissing him hard.

"Mmm, I love you too! What say we head back to the bed and see what the magic hotel staff has brought us for breakfast?" he says.

"OK, I guess he didn't get traumatized. Mmm, that bed is heaven, c'mon."

Stan picks me up again. "Trust me, you're gonna LOVE breakfast."

"Oh? Will I now?" I ask, leaning into him. "What makes this breakfast so special?"

"Oh, you'll see. You'll see very soon, dearest Kyle," he replies with an eyebrow waggle.

"Ohhh I can't wait. Hurry up and get me to that bed Stanny!" I insist.

"If my love insists!" Stan says, and he hurries up and gets me to that bed, gently setting me down, and goes to get the food, setting something in the bedroom minifridge before wheeling the cart over to my side of the bed.

"I don't want the surprise to spoil, but here're your pancakes, monsieur," he says in a cheesy fake French accent.

"Hehe, why thank you. Will my beloved be feeding me this morning?" I enquire, batting my eyelashes.

Stan stares thoughtfully at his omelet and toast. Using my wonderful powers of perception, I know he's wondering the chances he can eat HIS food at the same time he's feeding me mine.

"Sure!! Hey, they even left a full syrup selection...what'll it be, Ky?" he asks, showing me a tray of glass bulbs full of syrups.

"Oh, really? You choose for me," I insist.

"Hmm...good old maple syrup, so Ikey knows we remember him."

"Haha yes, for Ike!" I chuckle. "I hope its real maple syrup, not that cheap crap."

"Would they feed the high-rollers the cheap crap?" he asks, pouring the syrup. It looks thick and...maple-syrup-y. "...pretty sure that's real..." Stan says, examining it.

"Oh good point! With the cost of this room, it'd BETTER be real," I reply.

"Ah, psh. With the new record deal we signed last month we could OWN this place. Hell, we could probably own half this city, but that's not the point..." Stan says, cutting off a chunk of pancake for me.

"Man, talk about the sweet life! Do a bunch of shit songs fat boy writes, and I get to do you in a sweet hotel room."

"Hehe, true! Now, eat up..." he says, poking the fork with pancake on it towards Kyle's mouth, with his own fork poised and ready over his omelette.

"Ok, Ok!" I say, eating happily. While chewing, I notice Stan having a little trouble with his own food. "Hey, pass me the pancakes, you're not having much luck there," I say.

"Aw, you caught me, I'm not ambidextrous..." he says, dejected, and hands over the pancakes.

"Can't have my Stanny eating cold omelette, yuck... Well…This tastes like real syrup."

"Even worse, cold toast," he says, making a face. "Oh, goody!!"

"Ewww, I hate cold toast," I say, finishing the pancakes. "So," I ask with a yawn. Oh damn... I shoulda tried to sleep last night. "What was this 'surprise' you mentioned? It better not be a Doctor's appointment or something."

"Why would I hide a doctor's appointment in the fridge? Nope, my dear...it's been a while since we last had 'em, cuz they cost out the ass and fat boy always gets real pissy when he goes over the hotel bills, buuuuuuuuuuuuut...just to keep you happy for today..." he says, pulling out the Strawberries and Crème. "Ta-da!!"

"YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!" I squeal. "I LOVE STRAWBERRIES AND CRÈME!! AND YOU, I LOVE YOU TOO, BUT RIGHT NOW I LOVE STRAW & CRÈME!!"

"And I CAN feed these to you!!"

"OHHH, YESSSSSSSSSSSSS! YUMYUMYUMYUMYUMYUMYUMYUM!"

He crèmes up a strawberry and feeds it to me. "Here you go, love!!"

"Oh God. YUM! THANKYOU STANNY!"

"And I even got extras!! So...we've got PLENTY of Strawberries and Crème for Ky!!"

"Come lie down with me! You plus Strawberries and crème, in this bed… I can't ask for anything more!"

"Hell, Ky, you can even eat them off me if you'd like..." he says, in a moment of stupidity.

"Oh God, you know I'd love that... But that's too much movement for me right now. Sorry," I say, blushing.

"Bugger...I'm sorry Ky...but I'll be more than happy to still feed them to you."

"Thank you Stan... I promise I'll make it up to you as soon as I can."

"Let's hope that comes soon!!" he says, feeding me another berry.

"MMmmmm so... nicccccce... lovelovelovelovelove you... You too Stan..."

He chuckles. "Well, it's still nice to know I make you feel good, even if I can't make you feel REALLY good..."

"Hehe well, this will do nicely for now... Aren't you going to have any?"

"Eat your fill, I know what I'm going to do with MY share."

"Oh? Anwhashat?" I ask with my mouth full of strawberry and crème.

"Well, you may not be able to eat them off ME...but I don't have any problem with eating them off YOU."

"Ohhhhh I see, so, why are you taking so long?"

"Well, I figure I'll need about seven, so..." he trails off, counting out seven and setting them aside. "Oh, darn...that leaves only six more for you..."

"Oh that's OK, you take what you need love."

Stan offers me the spare dish of crème. "Feel free to finish up while I get set up, love..."

"Mmmm, will do!" I say, and continue eating happily.

Stan gets his strawberries all creme'd up and starts sticking them onto me: my nipples, and on a path down my abdomen, leading to his likely destination, which is also slathered in crème. "OK, ready!!" he announces with a grin.

"MMmmmm so it seems, by all means, start!" I say.

Stan gives me a deep kiss, before taking in the strawberry over my left nipple and licking up any excess crème.

"MMMmmmm... They're nice huh?" I moan.

"Fucking perfect, Kyle...just like you," he says, repeating this process on the right nipple.

"MMMmmmm," I groan. 'OK, don't arch, or anything, and it'll be fine,' I think. 'Just enjoy this…' as Stan eats strawberry #3 just below my pecs, once again licking the crème.

"Mmmmm... you just wait till I'm better again."

He eats the fourth strawberry, six inches down from #3. "I hope I can...I know it'll be damn awesome..." he says.

"God..." I moan, gripping the sheets tightly. "Stan..."

In response, he eats the fifth strawberry, JUST above the "spot" that just drives me wild.

"MMmmmmmm" I moan. 'Oh God, don't move too much!' "Stannnnnnnnnn!!"

He now eats strawberry six, right on top of my navel. "Kyyyyyyyyle!!"

"Nnnnn there ... can't be many... to go now... Mmmmmm." Absentmindedly, I note that I am still gripping the sheets tightly.

He eats strawberry seven, RIGHT above little Kyle. Oh that bastard…that lovely, lovely bastard.

"Oh God...Stannnnnnn...mmmmm..." I moan, involuntarily arching up slightly. "NNnnn..." Oh, bad move, bad move... Don't arch...dear GOD don't arch! I CAN'T arch now!!

Stan presses an arm into my abdomen to restrain me, while at the same time taking little Kyle into his mouth and starting to suck.

"Ahhhh Stannnnnnn... God... That's nice."

"My best for my Kyle..." he says briefly, before returning to pleasing me.

"Mmm. yessss..." I groan, trying to arch against Stan's arm holding me down. "Mmmmmmm…" Shit, shit stop moving!! But... so hard... and I mean that in the LEAST erotic way possible…

"Mmmm...tasty..." he smirks, and continues. God, he's really good at this…

"Nnnnnn Stan..." I exclaim, continuing to strain against Stan's arm, and feel a strong pain shoot up my back. Goddamnit!! "Nnnnnn. SHIT-STAN-STOP!!"

"What? What happened?" Well, HE can't feel it…

"Back!! Pain!! Really painful pain!!!!!"

"Shit, Kyle!" he says, laying off. He looks disappointed, then sighs. "We're going to the doctor," he says. "Just as soon as I make a couple calls."

"Wha?" I ask. "No, no, no, no, no!!"

"Dude. You can't go on like this...I can't go on with you like this. You need to see the doctor."

"Wha? YOU can't go on with me like this? What the hell does that mean asshole?" I ask in a panic, taking my fear out on poor Stan.

"It's simple, Ky. It's frustrating to have a boyfriend you can't fucking DO anything with, for fear of hurting them. You've got a problem, and I won't rest until we find out what it is and get it fixed!"

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry Stan, I didn't mean to go off at you. I know you're trying to help..."

"Don't worry, Ky...we'll have you good as new in no time. I have to make a couple calls now...just...don't move," he says, grabbing his cell phone from his pants on the floor and going into the living room to make his calls.

"'Don't move', well I think that's kinda obvious..." I call after him with a sigh. Stupid back, it ruined both times. I guess I shoulda told him to stop last night. That killed...

After a few minutes, Stan comes back. "OK!" he announces. "Fatass, who is none too pleased about this, is postponing our tour dates until your back is fixed, the jet'll be ready to go whenever we get there, the limo's already parked outside, Johns Hopkins knows we're coming, and the hotel - though reluctant - will part with the bed. Oh, and we're checked out, so let's just get you dressed and we'll be on our way, 'K?"

"Oh, right. Hehe, I'm pissing Fatass off! Well, this seems a lil better after all. Hey Stan, C'mere."

He does so. "Yeah, Ky? What is it?"

I grab his hand and pull him down for a kiss. "Thank you Stan."

"Anything for you, Kyle, my love. Erm...where exactly are your clothes?"

" ... Errr... I think you ripped em off at the front door."

"I did? Hmm...there's a jacket and pants out there, but where's your green tee?"

"Uhh, I haven't got a clue... hehe."

"Musta left it backstage when we fled the fangirls. Ah well, there'll be spare clothes on the plane anyway. As long as there's enough to get us to the plane without getting funny looks and/or arrested, we're good," he says, and goes to retrieve the strewn clothing.

"So, all together, what clothes do we have? Maybe I should wear some of yours?"

"Heh...basically, just pants and jackets for both of us. God, we must've REALLY been in a hurry..."

"Well, aren't we always?"

"Heh, well, now we have all the time we need. Are you gonna need my help getting back into these?"

"Um, I think so ... I'm sorry for being such a pain."

"I'll rant at your back later. God, this is going to be so STRANGE, putting clothes ON you instead of taking them OFF!!" he says, sliding my pants on.

"Hahaha, this is the first, and last time it'll ever happen," I promise.

"It'd better be!!" he says, helping me put the jacket on, even going as far as to do the buttons and buckles for me, before quickly dressing himself.

"Now, as for shoes...erm...I think I shall have to nick the slippers in here."

"Hotel slippers are always nice. Hey, are we gonna take the shampoos and stuff? They expect us to…"

"Of course we'll take the shampoos. Just leave 'em under the bedsheets, so the movers know to take it out."

"Haha OK. Alright ... Let's see if I can get up," moving to get outta bed.

"...Prolly be best if I just carry you. It's never been as bad as it was just now..." he points out. I cancel my movements and stretch out my arms.

"Good idea... The stage and last night must've pushed it over the edge."

He winces. He probably thinks both of those were his fault. "Alrighty then. Let's get you up and going!" he says, picking me up and heading for the door.

I can't help but notice his down attitude. "Don't blame yourself, I shoulda told you about this long ago," I say. "Shoulda went to the doctor long ago as well."

"You're damn right you should have! How long's this been goin' on?"

"Ummm... a little over a month now I think..."

"A MONTH? A fuckin MONTH!? All this time we've...I've...why didn't you say somethin, Ky?"

"Umm... I dunno... Guess I'm just a pussy really... I mean, I didn't wanna stop you from... well, you know... And I didn't wanna… Arghhhh I dunno OK? I'm sorry."

"I forgive you...but you gotta let me know these things, dude!!" he says as we arrive at the elevator. He turns to the attendant. "Lobby, please."

"Yeah I know... I will from now on, I just thought it may go away, that it was just from rehearsing a lot, but I guess not."

" Yeah, apparently...but it DID prolly have something to do with rehearsing...I mean, Fatass has been having you and Kenny do some pretty crazy shit lately..."

"Yeah, I'm so sick of him acting like he's a fuckin leader. I mean he writes the songs, I'll give him that, but goddamn he's pissing me off!" exclaim, starting a rant about the Fatass that lasts for the entire elevator trip.

**Stan's POV**

I finally hear the DING of the elevator's arrival in the lobby, and I have to bring Kyle out of his ranting mode.

"Kyle...Ky...KYLE!! C'mon, dude, Jacques is waiting with the limo."

"Wha? Oh right, right."

"Good morning, young Masters. Where's your destination today?" Jacques says, holding the back seat door open.

"Airport, Jacques. VIP terminal, I think you know the route by now..." I say.

"God, can't wait to get on that plane, to that nice, comfy bed," Kyle moans into my chest.

I lay Kyle down on the long seat in the limo and sits next to him, holding his hand. "Prolly about fifteen minutes to the airport from here, dude."

"Mmm that's not long," he says, holding my hand tightly. "God, I'm so stupid, always makin things worse…"

"You don't always make things worse...you're usually pretty good about making me better..."

He smiles lovingly at me. "Thanks Stan... But not this time I didn't. I waited too long. I mean, what if I never walk again? Oh God, what if I need surgery or something? Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!!" He's panicking. He gets himself worked up over the littlest things. If there's one of my character traits that I just WISH would rub off on him is my unbridled optimism, in countenance to his constant expecting of the worst case scenario.

"Well, I'll admit that the bit upstairs with the shooting pain all up and down your back probably didn't help matters much, but if they can't fix you at Johns Hopkins, Ky, you can't be fixed..."

"...THAT'S NOT HELPING ME STAN!!" he screams.

"Dude, I'm not a doctor, and I don't claim to have any knowledge of medicine other than what to take for headaches, stomachaches, and heartburn, nausea, indigestion, upset stomach, and diarrhea. But I DO know that the place I'm taking you has the best docs in the world at everything. You'll be in the best of hands."

"Ohhh I know, I know, but... C'mon, can't you reassure me just a lil? Just tell me something. Anything." God. I can't even give him the usual reassurance…

"I will kick anyone who says you won't make a full recovery in the nuts," I state.

"Hehe, that's a start. Oh, I can't believe I fucked things up twice this morning... God damn it... I'm angry/sad/worried all at once, what a mix huh?"

"...Have you slept at all in the past week?" I ask as he starts rambling again.

"...Oh uh... well, you know…"

"Oh My God, not at ALL!?!"

"No, of course not. Well that is to say... kinda... not really."

"But far less than eight hours a night, right?"

He sighs. "2 hours tops, and none last night."

"Dude...we're gonna HAVE to get you to sleep somehow for the flight. It'll only be about three hours, but even that's SOMETHING...sedative, maybe?"

"Oh I can't sleep Stan, it's impossible. Look, just... don't worry OK? I'll be fine, it's only 3 hours."

"Kyle, you HAVE to sleep. If you don't now, the docs'll make you. The body can only go without for so long...and you NEVER ramble like that when you're lucid."

"God Stan, DROP IT! I can't sleep OK? It hurts too much. Arghhhh, God fucking damn it!! Oh… Sorry, I didn't mean that Stan."

"KYYYYYYYYYLE...You HAVE To!! If I can numb the pain, can you take a nap?" I whine as the limo pulls up to plane.

Kyle sniffs. "And how will you do that?"

"Good ol' Advil and an IcyHot patch."

"Well, I'll sleep if it works... If you think it will, I'll try it."

"It worked when I had a backache when we started learning that new choreography..." I say, carrying Kyle into the plane.

"You know the destination?" I ask the pilots.

"Yes, Mr. Marsh," they reply.

"ETA?"

"Three and a half from takeoff."

"Do we already have departure clearance?"

"Expecting it at any moment."

"Great. We'll be in back."

"Three and a half huh? Oh well, what's half an hour?"

"Plenty of time for the aspirin and the patch to kick in and send you off to dreamland, Kylie-poo."

"Hehe, extra sleep time, nice... where's that beautiful plane bed, super comfy, second best compared to that hotel bed?"

"Right here," I say, laying Kyle face down and pulling up the jacket, exposing his lower back, as I rifle through a medicine cabinet on the bulkhead looking for the Advil and the IcyHot.

"Ah! Here we go!! Now...where on your back does it hurt most?"

"Uhh mainly the lower back, around the middle."

"Middle of the bottom or bottom of the middle?'

"Yeah, middle of the bottom."

"Alright," I say, as I apply the patch, turn Kyle over and present him with two Advil liqui-gels.

"Here, take these. Need some water?" I ask.

"Mmm, yep water please."

"Water it is!" I say, handing Kyle a bottle of Aquafina.

"Thanks Stan," he says, and takes the pills.

"Feeling any better?" I ask as the plane taxis and takes off.

"Ahh… A little... Not really tired yet," he says.

"Well, just relax, and it'll come. I'll be right here the whole way, Ky."

"Mmmmm... Come lay with me. I always feel much better when you're close to me." Well, how can I deny him that?

"Absolutely, Ky!" I say, coming and laying down next to him.

"MMmmm," he says, snuggling up close to me. "Much better."

"Sleep, dear Kyle...doesn't that sound good?" I ask, rustling his hair.

"mmmmmmmmmmmm..." he moans. I think the pills are kicking in. "Loveya..."

"You too, Ky..."

"Stan..."

"Ky?"

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you. And the way I keep going off at you... I know I keep saying it, but I'm so, so sorry."

"You're hurt and irritated...I understand. You're forgiven, dude. Go to sleep, and all will be made well soon."

"Mmm... How did I ever get you dude? You're far too good for me."

"By being you, the only boy I could ever need or want."

Kyle's smirking. "Only boy. What about girls, huh?"

"Psh. Who needs 'em? All they do is whine, nag, and try and take you shoe shopping."

"Hehe, well... all I've been doing is the first two lately."

"Well, as long as you don't try and take me shoe shopping..."

"Hehe well, who knows what pain killers may do to me."

"You'd damn well better not!!"

"I can't promise you anything."

"Can you please promise me sleep?"

"Ohhhh... I'm not really…"

"Oh yes you are." He's gone a month without any decent sleep, no WAY he's not tired.

His eyes are only half open as he responds. "...nuh ...uh." Oh, so THAT's how it's gonna be, huh, Ky? Well, I know how to make you go to sleep…

Taking a deep breath, I start singing. "Lullaby...and good night...go to sleep, my dear Ky-le..."

"ohhh...do-...n'tt..." he whines, yawning.

I continue singing. "Close your eyes...go to sleep...close your eyes and go to sleep!"

"...nnnnnnnnnnnn..." his resistance is half-hearted at best. He's nearly asleep. It's working!

Since it's working, I continue singing. "When the Moon...shines above...go to sleep, my dear love..."

"St-..op...sing-...ing..." Don't fight it, Kyle. We both know you dearly need sleep.

I have no intention of stopping, and continue singing, from the top. "Lullaby, and goodnight! Go to sleep my dear Kyle..."

He reaches for my hand, weakly, tiredly. "Sh-...sh..."

I take his hand, and continue singing "Close your eyes, go to sleep, close your eyes and go to sleep!!"

"mmmmmmm... war-m … hand...sleep..."

I redouble my singing efforts. "When the Moon...shines above...go to sleeeeeeep...my, dear, love..." I sing, stroking Kyle's hand and hair.

He moves closer to me, taking in my warmth. "St...a...n..."

I draw Kyle in close, and continue singing. "Lullaby...and goodnight...go to sleep, my dear Kyle..."

This finally does the trick, and Kyle finally falls asleep after so long awake.

I continue to stroke Kyle's hair absentmindedly, glad he's finally able to sleep, and take small comfort in his own warmth, and start counting down the time until we land in Baltimore.

"_Mr. Marsh?_" comes the pilot's voice over the intercom.

"Yeah, Tom?" I ask, hitting the call button on the bedside table.

"_We've reached cruising altitude, sir._"

"Alright! Three hours to Baltimore?"

"_Yes sir, three hours. Erm…I didn't interrupt anything, did I?_"

"Nope. Nothing at all…but you may not be so lucky on the way back, if this trip comes to any sort of frutition."

"_Understood, sir. I'll call you back when we're on final approach._"

"Thanks, Tom."

"_You're welcome, sir._"

**-.-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Stand By Me – Ch. 3**

**Disclaimer: It's still not mine.**

**Summary: Stan finally gets Kyle to the doctor.**

**Author's Notes: In Soviet Russia, Author notes YOU!! And yes, that is supposed to be a thanks to everyone who is reading this.**

-.- 3 hours later -.-

"_Mr. Marsh, we're on final approach._" Tom calls over the intercom.

"Right!" I call back, turning my head to look at the beautiful boy sleeping beside me. Should I wake Kyle? He's sleeping so peacefully for the first time in a long time...he can wait, can't he?

"ZZZzzzzZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz." He's sound asleep, making the cute little sleeping noises I've come to love. Yeah...he can wait. I'll wake him up when we get to the hospital. Now, let's just hope I don't do a Jerry Ford and fall down the stairs carryin him to the limo...

"zzzzzzzzzzz." He's still asleep as the plane lands. As the engines wind down, I get up, and pick up Kyle.

As I make my way forward, I start singing. "We're off to see the wizard, who's going to re-pair your spine!"

Kyle, apparently, feels himself being moved, and wakes up. "Hhhuhh? Stan?"

Shit. Putting on an overly cheery smile, I reply "Hey, Ky...we're here!"

He seems to still be half asleep "Huh? Where?"

"Just landed in Baltimore. Limo's pullin up alongside, we should be there in less than a half hour."

"Oh... yeah...ohhhhhhhhhhh Noo, doctors..." he whines.

"Yes, Kyle, doctors. So you can get all better, OK?"

"Oh God no...Why didn't you let me sleep more... I was sleeeeeeeeping..." he complains.

"Yes you were...but I needed to move you. I wasn't planning to wake you up, I know you need your sleep."

"MMmmmmmm... Hey... You don't suppose people will hear about this do ya? It won't be anything big will it? Like, big enough for my damn mum to hear about?"

"Not a soul knows about it," I assure him. "And there's doctor-patient confidentiality anyway. God forbid your mum should find out you got hurt."

"Argh! Oh God, that's the last thing I need... She'll kill me, and you! You'll end up with more then a sore back! Oh God, this just seems so much worse now."

"Don't worry Ky, she won't find out! I promise."

"Oh boy, she better not..." he says with a sigh. "Oh Stannnnnnn I don't wanna go docs..."

"Kyyyyyyyyyy, you gotta! You don't wanna be in pain for the rest of your life, do ya?"

"... No... Oh god damn it... THIS IS FAT ASSES FAULT!"

"Always is, anytime you have to go to the hospital...that time with the kidney, that time with your ass...fat boy's fault all the way."

"God that fucking fat piece of pig shit I'll kill him!" he says, launching into another rambling tirade against Cartman."

"Well, we need to get you walkin' first, Ky. That's why we're goin to the doc's! Now c'mon, Jacques is waitin' with the limo."

He starts shaking a little, with what I think is worry. "... yeah, yeah..."

"You want me to carry you still?" I ask.

"Well, I dunno if I can walk too well..."

"Carrying you it is then!" I say, carrying Kyle out through the plane, stopping to give further instructions to the pilots.

"Get her refueled and ready back for the trip to Denver. We shouldn't be much more than three hours, if that," I say.

"Understood, Mr. Marsh," Tom says.

"Great flying as always, boys. See you in a bit," I say, carrying Kyle down to the limo, where Jacques is standing with the door open.

Kyle seems to still be a little dazed. "3 hours huh? Oh God, I just want this over with so I can be back in that bed again..."

"Well, it all depends on how many tests they need to run on you. Could even be out of there in an hour and a half!!" I say, picking up the phone and addressing Jacques.

"Johns Hopkins."

"Yes, Master Marsh," the driver replies.

Turning back to Kyle as the car begins moving, I comment "We'll be back in bed sooner than you think, Ky."

"Mmmm hope so... You're not leaving me at any point, understand?"

"I'll be right by your side, Ky."

"Damn right you will be! I don't care what those doctors say! We're the ones paying the damn bill, so you stay with me at all times."

"I'm sure we can make 'em see it that way. A few autographed records for their daughters and we'll be able to do whatever we want."

"Hehe that's true, never under estimate the power of those fangirls... Good God did we learn that the hard way..."

"You'll be seein a Dr. Marcus ... Reinhardt, I think. He's a full professor, respected clinician, and an expert in chiropracty. If anyone can find out what's wrong with you, HE can."

Kyle sighs. "Great..."

"You know you want the pain to go away, dude..."

"Yeah I know I know... There's no getting outta this now huh? Unless the hospital has burnt down!!" The worst part is, it sounds like he actually means that.

"Dude. Not funny. C'mon, I HATE hospitals, and I'm doin this for YOU. What's your beef with 'em?"

"You're not the one who actually needs help. You never are, so I dunno why you hate them. Every time I'm there, I'm always on my death bed! I hate them! And some random person touching me? God I HATE IT!!"

"So, you want me to go to med school then? So I can take care of you at home?"

"Too much time away from me if you do that."

"Nah...you can come with, and we can get an apartment, or, YOU could go to med school too, and make the big fat bitch proud of you!"

"Well, they were all her ideas, she wanted me to be all rich and famous. Well I am now, and she's still not happy. She'll never be proud of me. Not that I care, if it's a choice between you and her being proud, well, there's no competition."

"We could study our anatomy every niiiiiiight."

"Hehe," he chuckles, "I thought we already did."

"Work on diagnoses together..."

"Mmmm...OH-GOD-I-DON'T-WANNA-GO-HOSPITAL-STAN!!!"

"Ky, you've GOTTA! It'll make you feel good. Almost better than sex!" I exclaim.

"... Now that is a lie."

"Yeah, you're probably right," I admit with a shrug. "But it'll give ME a joygasm to know when I can give YOU an orgasm again!!"

"Hehe... But what if I never get better? What if we can't do any of that again? Oh God! You'd leave, you'd get tired of me, I wouldn't be able to work, I can't go home, I'd be on the streets. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!!!" He's freaking out again.

"If I would leave you just because we couldn't have sex ever again, I'd eat a gun. Really. That would be the worst thing anybody could ever do to a person..."

He leans against me. "Ohhhh... hate to ask, but are we nearly there?"

"Jacques!?!" I shout.

"Five minutes, Master Marsh."

"Thank you!!"

I relay this to Kyle, who has a grin on his face, because he probably heard it as well. "He says five minutes."

"Oh Christ, that was fast... waiting is the hardest part... It's dragging on and on..."

"Well, there shall be no waiting once we get there! I called ahead, and Dr. Reinholdt will be waiting in his office for us. We just need to go right up!"

"Great ... great... Stan, make me happy, for 5 minutes."

"Five minutes of making out with the hottest boy in this car? I'm game!"

"'In this car?' Are you saying there's better outside this car?"

"I can't see anything outside the car. So, until we get out of here, YOU are officially my world, Kyle Broflovski."

"Aren't I always your world?" he asks, confused.

Doh! "Of course you are, Kyle...but I don't always get the opportunity to express myself to my heart and soul..."

"Fair enough. Oh My God, 4 MINUTES HURRY UP!" he screams, flailing his arms, as I clamp my mouth down on Kyle's.

"MMMMMmmmmmm... Be-...tter..."

I suck on Kyle's neck. "I'm trying to be mindful of your back, dude..."

"Mmmm I noticed! Doing a-hhh... great job too."

"So, I'm not gonna go into your jacket! At least...not with my mouth!" I say, kissing Kyle again and stroking my hand across his chest.

"Mmmmm... Not too much... Don't wanna move, but God that's nice..."

"Well, I hope I can do more with you soon!!" I say, kissing him, stroking him, and entangling my hand in his hair.

"Mmmmmm, I hope so as well... I've done nothing but be annoying lately..."

"You're not annoying Ky. You'll never be annoying," I say with a kiss. "You're too perfect to be annoying!"

"Oh God, I just wanna stay like this all day..." he says as the car slows down.

"I wish we could too, Ky, but…" I'm waiting for the interruption.

"Master Marsh, we're here." There it is!

"Damnit!" I say.

**-.-**

**Kyle's POV**

**-.-**

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," I protest, shutting my eyes and hoping it's all just a bad dream.

"C'mon Ky...the sooner you come along, the sooner we can get back to makin' out," Stan says.

"Oh God, no... no...no... I'm not going in there."

"YES you ARE!! It's the only way for you to get better!!"

"NOOOOO AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!!!" I insist. Oh shit...Yes he can...FUCK!

"… says the guy who can't walk to his big, strong boyfriend. C'mon, Ky, up you go!" he says, picking me up and getting out the door Jacques is holding open for us.

"Thanks Jacques," he says. "Feel free to go get a cup of coffee or something."

I start pouting. "I hate you... you fucking bastard, you love seeing me suffer, asshole. Hate you, hate you, hate you so much..."

"Of course I do Kyle. That's why I'm taking you to get your back fixed, so I can keep being a huge cock-tease to you," he replies, very flippantly, entering the building and heading for the elevator.

"I'm not talking to you anymore," I say.

"If you don't talk to me, I might get your symptoms wrong, and you might end up getting poked with a needle."

"Hmph."

Stan gets in the elevator and pushes the button that causes the elevator to head for the fifth floor. "You know you don't want to have to get a bunch of extra tests just cuz I don't know what's wrong with you..."

I remain silent, but my angry pout softens a little. DAMN HIM!!

"Me and the doctor, we just wanna help you get better, Kyle. We can't do that if you don't talk to us..."

I sigh in defeat, leaning his head against Stan to signal my acquiescence.

"That's my Kyle..." he says, brightly. Far too brightly for my tastes.

The elevator dings, and lets us off. A man whose nametag I read to be Dr. Reinholdt is standing there waiting for us.

"Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski, I presume?"

I grip Stan tightly. "Yeah..." I answer.

"I'm Stan," he says. "This," he adds, gripping me, "is Kyle. He's not too thrilled about seein' a doctor, but he's had some REALLY bad back pain lately."

"Right. Well, you two, come on down to my office, we'll get the basic premise about what's happened, run some tests, and we'll know what's wrong with Kyle before dinner!"

"Great. Sounds great," I say as we enter Dr. Reinholdt's office

"Forgive him...he's a bit moody about all this. Plus, he hasn't slept much in the past week," Stan says, as he sits down, still holding me, in one of the chairs across from the doc's desk.

"Really? Kyle? How much sleep have you gotten in the past week?" he asks, sitting down in his big, comfortable-looking chair.

"Oh uhhh... about 2 hours tops a night, none last night, and about 2 and a half on the trip over here."

"All because of the pain in your back?"

"Well, mainly the pain in my back, yeah."

"How bad has the pain been, and how long have you had it?"

"Oh uhhh..." I say, stalling. Oh, I told Stan a month, he's gonna kill me. "About 2 months, maybe a little longer. It wasn't so bad at first, I thought it would just go away, but after a while it became more constant, and the last week or so it's pretty much all the time."

**Stan's POV**

'TWO!?!' I think. Raging thoughts of anger run through my mind.

**Kyle's POV**

"Where's the primary source of the pain in your back?" Dr. Reinholdt asks.

"Mainly the lower back, like in the middle of the lower back..." He's gonna be so angry at me…

**Stan's POV**

I am having angry thoughts. Very angry thoughts. How the hell long has this been going on? It just gets worse any time you ask him about it!!

**Kyle's POV**

"Any strenuous activity undertaken around that time that might've caused it?"

"Well, just basic dance training for performances and rehearsals and stuff..." Oh God, he's pissed…

"Any strange strain on your back during those rehearsals? Like...gymnastics, or something of the sort?"

"Ummm, no flips or anything like that, but there's a lot of like, bending and stretching involved..."

"Right...well, it sounds like a spinal disc herniation, slipped disc, if you will...but I'd like to run a few scans just to be sure. Two months is rather long for such a thing, but it's not unheard of, and relatively easy to treat. Stan, if you'd care to pick up Kyle again, we're gonna head down to Radiology."

"Oh... sounds... Good. Well, not really, but, yeah..." Please don't be TOO angry with me Stan. But judging by the look on his face, I'm dead.

**Stan's POV**

I pick him up and follow Dr. Reinholdt out of the office.

"TWO!?!" I whisper. "Bloody HELL, Ky!"

By now, we're back in the elevator. Dr. Reinholdt pushes the button to take us to the second floor.

"... I know... I'm SO sorry, I just-..." he whispers back.

"Yeah, yeah, you can't keep your hands off me," I whisper back.

"I think we'll do an X-ray, and then run a CT scan and an MRI, just to make sure we catch everything."

Kyle still sounds downcast. "Umm, OK. Are you staying Stan? I understand if you don't..."

"I promised you, Kyle. I'll be there with you..."

"Actually, it might be a bit difficult for you to stay with him for the CT and the MRI..."

"Is it possible?"

"So long as you're not insistent upon physical contact, then yes, but..."

"Are you insistent upon physical contact, Ky?"

"Well, not here and now anyway. Just as long as you're with me, I'll be fine."

"There you go then. Operate your machines, Doc...leave Ky to me."

**Kyle's POV**

I sigh again. "Come on, let's get this over with." He's still mad at me... I know he is.

Ahead of us, Dr. Reinholdt opens the door to the Radiology section, and heads for the X-ray room.

"Lead aprons for the both of you. Kyle, I'm going to need you to lay face down on this bed, so I can get a shot of your back, K?"

"Uhh OK then," I say. "This won't hurt or anything will it?"

"Shouldn't," he replies. "Unless you've got a sort of hypersensitivity to ultraviolet radiation..."

"... I'd better not!" I reply.

"Well then, it won't hurt a bit," he assures me, walking over to control panel.

**Stan's POV**

"I'm activating the machine...now. Hold still, please, Kyle, for three seconds...1...2...3," Dr. Reinholdt says, and I hear a click.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, hurry up, hurry up, be over with..." Kyle says, causing me to grip his hand reassuringly.

"One more picture, just hold still...1...2...3," says the doctor, and I hear the same click, as the machine whirrs.

**Kyle's POV**

"OK, Kyle...we're going to head over to the CT machine now. Stan, if you'd be so kind..." he says.

"Stan can't come?" I ask, confused and worried.

"Oh, no, he can come...I just need him to carry you there. Sorry..." Stan picks me up off the X-Ray machine as Dr. Reinholdt heads for the door.

"Follow me, two doors down. He can't be right next to you this time, but he can still be in the room."

"Oh... well... That's OK then..." I say, relaxing in Stan's strong embrace as he starts walking. I wonder if he's still mad. He doesn't seem to be, but maybe he's hiding it until this is over. Oh God, I bet that's it.

We enter the next room, and the doc starts giving more instructions. "OK, Stan...lay Kyle down on this slide here. Kyle, what we're going to do is slide you into this opening, so that we can get a full picture of your torso, see if there's maybe something putting extra pressure on your back."

Stan lays me down. "I know it's not the most comfortable thing in the world, but can you stand it for a few minutes, Ky?"

"Ummm, yeah I can. It's not that I have much of a choice... Uh, how many more tests after this?" I ask Dr. Reinholdt, who's heading to the control room

"Just the MRI. It's kind of like this, just a different machine with different buttons," he replies.

"See why I wanna be a doctor? There's BUTTONS!!" He sounds fairly giddy.

"Hehehe, you are amused far too easily."

As I'm slid into the machine, he replies "You'd know, huh, Ky?"

"OK, Kyle, I need you to be Perfectly Still until I slide you out, OK? This will take about three minutes, and then we'll be on our way to the last test," Dr. Reinholdt calls over an intercom into the machine-room.

"OK," I call back. 3 minutes. Just 3 minutes. Then the last test. Then leave, back to the comfy bed. I can do this.

**Stan's POV**

Inervously tap a beat out on my leg. I hope Kyle'll be alright...I'm still kinda mad that he didn't tell me about that extra month, but he's never really been open about talking about it when he gets hurt...my poor, shy, Ky...

I hear the CT scanner whirr, and I see Dr. Reinholdt staring at the scan up in the control room.

**Kyle's POV**

Ohhh come on, come on... I wanna get outta here! I wanna know what's wrong. No, I don't. Wait, yes I do. No...OH GOD, HURRY UP!! I want Stan!

Almost as if response to my wishes, the machine stops whirring. Huh. How interesting.

I hear Dr. Reinholdt's voice over the intercom again. "OK, Kyle, we're done. Stan, once he slides out, pick him up and follow me to the MRI room."

The machine starts to expel me.

"Arghhh, finally!! Longest 3 minutes ever! That thing is freaky. Does he know yet?" I ask Stan.

"Probably, but you know doctors...always after an excuse to bleed money from you and your insurance company," he replies, picking me up.

"Come on, we're almost done. Then, I'll need a minute or two to get everything together before we can know what's wrong with Kyle," the doctor says, coming back for a moment to give us someone to follow.

"Oh God, it's gonna be bad. I mean look at me! I can't even walk on my own. Well, I can, but you know... Oh God...STAN!!" I fret. I shouldn't be worrying myself this badly, but…well…it's me.

"Kyle...c'mon, you're gonna be FINE! Trust me...I'll do whatever it takes to get you well again!" Stan says, following the doctor to the MRI room.

"Yeah, you're right. You always are," I say. Oh man... I wonder if he's still angry? Why am I thinking so much of this? I seem more concerned if he's mad at me then weather or not I'm seriously injured.

**Stan's POV**

"Alright...lay Kyle down again. This one'll take about five minutes. It's easier because we know exactly what we're looking for, but it still takes time to scan," the doctor tells me as I enter the MRI room, carrying Kyle.

Walking over to the machine, I set Kyle down on another little plastic bed.

Dr. Reinholdt whispers to me before heading to the control room. What he says is a DEFINATE cause for a frown.

Oh, shit...Kyle is NOT going to like that...not at all.

**Kyle's POV**

Hmm... he looks mad about something. What did that guy tell him? "Hey, what exactly is going on?"

He actually flinches. "I'll tell you when you get out," he says, but he sounds like he dreads telling me.

The machine slides me in.

"Kyle, I think you know the drill..." Dr. Reinholdt says over the intercom.

"Yeah..." I reply. OH GOD, TELL ME WHAT!?! OH CRAP!!

**Stan's POV**

Now this machine starts whirring, and once again Dr. Reinholdt stares at the scan as it progresses.

Oh shit...Kyle told me he doesn't want surgery...but that sounds like the LEAST painful option based on what he told me...and it would give me something new to play with. Scar tissue's sensitive, isn't it?

**Kyle's POV**

He looked worried when he left, I wonder what he said. Oh God, WHY ME? What the Hell did I do to deserve this?

**Stan's POV**

The machinery's whirring slows, and stops, and Kyle is expelled. I pick him up and cradle him, stroking his hair and holding him close.

"Meet me in one of the viewing rooms in a couple minutes. One of the first doors past the entrance to the section. It has the light-up screens in it," Dr. Reinholdt says, ducking into the room before running back to the control room.

"Right..." I say. Oh, Kyle...

"Stan, what's wrong? Tell me, please..." Kyle asks, looking up me with TONS of worry in his eyes. Oh, Goddamnit, there's NO easy way to say this…why does the doctor think _**I**_ should be the one to do this? I don't wanna do this…he's not gonna like it. No way in Hell is he gonna like it.

**-.-**

**Author's Notes: OK! Here's the new chapter, with a nice cliffhanger for you all! We should see the next installment within a couple of weeks, at most. Hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you'll review it.**

**Phoenix II**


	4. Chapter 4

Stand By Me

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: The conclusion of the initial plot! Although…there may be additions to this. Dunno…depends on if Karen and I can concentrate on the recovery portion XDDD. Still Stan's POV.

-.-

"Stan, what's wrong? Tell me, please..."

"The doc thinks you MIGHT, just might, need surgery. There's a lot of pressure on a couple of your nerves, in addition to the slipped disc. Basically, he can either re-break your back, or go in, slide the disc back to its normal resting place and relieve the pressure on those nerves," I answer.

"Surgery? Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, all those sound awful! Oh God, I don't want surgery!! Ohhhhh God, I won't be able to walk ever again! Oh God!!" Kyle exclaims, freaking out in my arms.

"It's a really easy procedure. Like...half an hour, or so. Outpatient surgery. Half an hour under anesthesia, and a couple months of massage therapy, and you'll be perfect. Your back'll be better than ever!!" I say, trying to reassure him as I enter the viewing room and sit on the bed, still holding Kyle close.

"OHhhhhhhh, I shoulda told you about it long ago!! God, I'm such a fucking IDIOT!" he says, beating himself up as Dr. Reinholdt enters, carrying X-rays and CT and MRI scan results.

"Have you told him?" the doc asks me.

"Yes, he did," Kyle answers.

"He's not that thrilled at the prospect, Doc..." I add.

"Did you tell him how easy it'd be?"

"Yeah..."

"Kyle? What kind of treatment would you like?" Dr. R asks.

"Ohhh God damn it, isn't there some kind of... I dunno... drug or something?" he asks with a sigh. "I'll do whatever is the simplest and quickest."

"Well, I could only give you a drug for the pain, but that wouldn't do anything to fix your back. I can do the surgery within the hour, if you'd rather get this all over with today..."

"TODAY?" he asks, grabbing me tightly... a little TOO tightly. "OH GOD!!"

"Cheer up, Ky … it's one day closer to you being well, and it'll keep you from worrying about it all night..."

He sighs again. "OK…"

"So that's a yes, Kyle? Would you like me to further explain what's going to happen, or do you think Stan did a good enough job of that?"

"Ohhhh I don't care, just do what you have to and get this over with! Oh, sorry..."

"He always worries about going to hospitals...pretty much every time he goes in, he's got a life-threatening disease that brings him to death's door. So...he's a little apprehensive about going under the knife," I explain.

"Oh. Well, then, that's understandable. Kyle, we'll get you admitted quickly and up to surgery for the anesthesia to be administered. We'll even let Stan stay with you."

"Really? Stan can stay? Well, I suppose that's a small plus... OH, I don't mean it like that Stan! Like, it's a big plus, but... I'll just shut up now!" Poor Ky, putting his foot in his mouth…

"Won't I be in the way?" I ask.

"Not really. We'll be working around his lower back, so as long as you stay away from there, you'll be fine. We'll even issue you some scrubs so you fit in."

"COOL! Kyle, won't that be awesome! And maybe we can play "Doctor," later!!"

"Hehehe, sounds good! So, when do we start this thing? Will I be able to go home after it?" Kyle asks, sounding a little more enthused about his procedure.

"Well, call it half an hour to get you admitted and have the anesthesia done, another five to make sure it's taken effect, probably another thirty minutes to do the surgery itself...we can have you out of here a little over an hour from your go-ahead. Call it...six o'clock, we'll get you discharged."

"Oh, OK. That sounds good. Oh man...It's gonna be a long afternoon," he says, getting a little shaky.

"Don't worry, Ky," I reassure him. "It's only another hour, and you'll be out of it for most of it."

"So, Kyle, shall we go get started on the paperwork?"

"Paperwork? Oh, right. Ohhh man, I can't really concentrate on that right now. Lil help, Stan?"

"Of course, Kyle. I know everything about you anyway."

"This way then..."

"Heh," Kyle says as we follow Dr. R. He sighs. "Stan?"

"Ky?"

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Not really...I mean, you've always been a little shy about talking about it when you're hurt. But you still shoulda told me I was hurting you all those nights..."

"You weren't hurting me! Well, maybe, but it's my own fault. Besides, those nights were less painful then you think." Still trying to be kinky, even when he's practically an invalid!!

I grin as I start filling out paperwork. "OK...Kyle J. Broflovski...born 1987...sex: often..., no just kidding, Male...allergies?"

"Hehe... No allergies... I thought you knew all bout' me?"

"All I need to know is that you're not allergic to me. So, no allergies. Home address...3 Fingerbang Drive, Denver CO..." I trail off, silently filling out the rest of the forms and handing them back to the nurse. "Here you go!"

"Thank you sir," she says, taking them from me. "Alright, Mr. Broflovski, let's get an admissions armband on you, and then, Mr. Marsh, you can take him up to Level 4. They'll be waiting for you there."

"Alright," I say.

"OK. Let's go. OK, almost over, almost over. Keep telling myself that. Oh God, it hasn't even started! OH God Stan, you must be SO sick of me going on and making this a big deal. I'm such an idiot..." he says, continuing to beat himself up as the nurse puts an admissions armband on us.

I pick him up, heading for the elevator. "Hehe, but I only have to listen to another fifteen minutes of it. And then, we'll be able to go home and play Doctor!!"

"Hehe, least I'll be having sweet dreams while I'm under!"

I hit the call button and give him a big kiss. "I'm happy for that!!"

We enter the elevator and head up to level four.

"Broflovski, party of two?" the nurse asks as we get out of the elevator.

"Yep..." Kyle answers, turning to me and whispers in my ear desperately. "What-if-something-goes-wrong? What-if-they-mess-it-up?"

"I'll kick 'em in the nuts. Nobody paralyzes my Kyle and gets away with it!!" I reply honestly, and a little too protectively.

"Heh... How long till this is over?"

I check my watch. "Forty minutes."

"OK, 40 minutes. OK, I can do this... I can do it," he says, taking deep breaths and trying to psyche himself up. "… I-can't-do-it!"

"You CAN do it, Kyle!!" I promise him, adding "and then WE can do it ALLLLL NIIIIGHT LOOOOOOONG!!"

"Yeah. Ok. So sorry I'm freaking out. I'm a pussy, yeah, I know."

I take him into surgery. "Don't worry, it'll all be over soon," I reassure him.

"Mr. Broflovski? I'm Dr. Nona Me, I'll be your anesthesiologist today. Mr. Marsh, if you could lay him face down on this bed, we can get started..."

Kyle grabs my hand. "Wish me luck?"

"Best of luck, love…" I say, squeezing back and setting him down as requested.

"Now, I'm going to put this mask on you, so we can administer the anesthesia...are you OK with this?" she asks as Dr. Reinholdt enters with a few nurses.

"Uhh, yeah. I-i guess so."

"Alright," she says sweetly, putting the mask on and turning on the happy gas.

I squeeze his hand from my spot on a stool, so I can stare at his face as he calms and relaxes. "Sweet dreams, love..." I say, hoping to be the last thing Kyle hears while conscious.

"Alright, Nona...when you're sure he's under, we'll go ahead and start," Dr. Reinholdt says from behind me.

"Right," the anesthesiologist replies.

"Stan…" Kyle says, before closing his eyes and nodding off. "ZZzzzZZzzz…"

"He's under," I inform them.

"You're sure?" the two Doctors ask.

"I've been sleeping with him for the past five years. I know when he's asleep."

"OK then, he's under," Dr. Me says.

"Alright," Dr. Reinholdt says. "Making the incision..."

I look away. I don't wanna watch this. I stare at Kyle instead, watching him breathe, his relaxed face, as I listen to the sounds coming from the surgery behind me, fixing him up so that he'll never hurt again. Because…I don't WANT Kyle hurting. It goes against my duty as the partner. I'm supposed to provide for Kyle, and I do that by dancing like an idiot and singing my lungs out at those stupid fucking concerts. I'm supposed to care for him, and that's why we're here. Love him in sickness and in health…of COURSE!! It's KYLE we're talking about here! Kyle!

Twenty minutes later, I hear all the noises and things behind me stop, and I turn to look.

"OK...that's the last suture," Doctor Reinholdt says. "Stan, the operation was successful. The disc is back in its proper spot and I'm 95 certain it'll never pop back out, and we've relieved the pressure on those nerves. Tell him he might want to cut back on the tight pants and shirts."

"Haha, yes sir. How long until..." I trail off, pointing at my still-sleeping boyfriend's legs.

"Well, he SHOULD be able to walk out of here on his own."

"... nnnnnnnnn St-...an..." the "he" in question moans, opening his eyes.

"Good morning, sunshine!! Doc here says that everything's back where it should be...how're you feeling?" I ask, turning away from Doc briefly to greet my newly-awoken Kyle.

"Really? That's good. I'm OK... still tired..." he says, hesitant about sitting up.

"It's the anesthesia...we usually go a little more than what's necessary, just to be certain. It'll wear off in a few minutes." Dr. Reinholdt says. "Now, Stan...we had to put in stitches to close him up, so...take it easy for a few weeks. I'll write you a note to take to your producer or whatever so he'll know how long you'll be unable to go..."

"That's it? Just a few weeks to wait for the stitches?" I ask. All right!!

Kyle's face shows something else entirely. I believe disappointment, probably because he'll be thinking we can't have the sex for the next few weeks. I bet we can!! "Is that it? Wait for stitches? Nothin else?" he asks as I gently pull him up and rearrange him to be sitting up.

"Well, you're going to need a few weeks of rehab after that just to make sure everything's working properly. So...call it six weeks off the road."

"How long until I can find out if ..."it"... is working properly?" I ask, fairly tactless. I can see Kyle smacking his forehead out of the corner of my eye.

"Well, I would recommend not having sex until your stitches are removed, just in case you tear them...but don't worry, Stan, after that, he should be able to do whatever."

"'Rehab?' What kinda things are going to happen there? Wait, can I even walk right now, or will I have to be carried everywhere?"

"Well, not rehab so much as...testing. Just a few minutes every week to make sure I didn't nick something I shouldn't have nicked. As for walking now...well, why don't you just see?"

"Oh. Well, that doesn't sound too bad. Oh, I can walk? Lil help getting me up, Stan?"

I lift Kyle off the bed. "I bet you'll miss being carried everywhere, though, won't you?"

His face brightens as he notices the strain has gone. "Hey… that feels OK!! Awww, maybe just a little. You can carry me round if you want, I'll never say no."

"Well, I'm glad to have been of service! It was a pleasure meeting you, sirs. I hope you wouldn't mind, but...I have a 12-year-old daughter, and...she's a big fan..." Dr. Reinholdt says. He looks hella-embarrassed.

"Tell ya what, doc. Since you fixed up Kyle here, we'll waive the usual fee..."

"Sure, no problem!" Kyle adds.

Dr. Reinholdt miraculously produces CDs from his coat pockets, along with a marker. "Thank you so much...she'll be THRILLED."

I sign my name on the first CD. "Always glad to make people happy."

I notice that Kyle's hands a tad shaky, but he signs it OK. Probably because of the nerves that he still feels. "There!" he pronounces as we swap, signing our names again before handing them back to Dr. Reinholdt.

"Thanks again, both of you! Kyle, I'm sure you're anxious to get out of here and back home to recuperate..."

"Hehe, definitely. Thank you."

"You'll send the bill to our insurance?" I ask.

"Yes, yes...and what they don't pay, you should get a bill for in a couple weeks."

"It's been a pleasure, Doc. Kyle...c'mon. I'll call Tony and Tom and have 'em get the jet ready to go, and Jacques is still probably outside. There's still PLENTY of things I can do to you that won't tear your stitches..." I say bemusedly, guiding Kyle towards the door.

"Hehe. Wow, I haven't walked without a strain for a long time!"

"See, Ky? It wasn't that bad."

"Fine, you were right, but only now because it's over."

"Well, hindsight's always 20/20..." I say, escorting him into the elevator.

"I'm tempted to rip this armband off now, but...I think I can think of a better way to do it LATER," I tell him with a waggle of the eyebrows.

"Oh? What do you plan to do? I can't do much right now."

"Well you can at least respond to what I'm going to do to YOU! Maybe we can actually get an orgasm out of you tonight. Let's just say it involves teeth." More eyebrows.

"Hehehehe sounds OK to me!!" he says, leaning against me and sighing. "Sorry..."

"It's all in the past, Ky. Now...we can look forward to six weeks at home without Fatass dragging us across country on some lame tour or another...but knowing him, he'll think it the GREATEST time to start work on a new album. Goddamn money-grubbing asshat..."

"Stupid prick asshole cock sucker…" Kyle says as we leave the elevator.

I kiss him. "Let's not think about him. Now…would you rather spend the next six weeks in Denver, or at the beach house in Miami?"

"Hmmmmmm," he says, pondering. "Which is furthest from the hospital?"

"Well, technically Denver, but...I've heard Florida's great for R&R."

"Heh, alright, Miami then!"

"Great!" I say, helping him into the limo, which heads off for the airport.

I get on my phone. "Tony? It's me. Listen, change of plans...we're goin' to Miami. Have the plane ready in fifteen, alright? Bye," I say, clicking it off.

I turn to Kyle. "Six weeks of Kyle and the beach...Life Is Sweet," I say with a kiss.

"Mmmmm, yes it is, but..."

"But?"

Surprisingly, he buries his face in Stan's chest and starts crying. "I-still-feel-bad!"

"So make it up to me," I say simply.

"But... I lied to you for over 2 months, and again this morning saying it was only a month! How can I make that up to you? I mean, I'm 'limited', and what I can do just doesn't seem enough!" I don't think he understands why I can be so forgiving to him.

"I'm a patient fella...and I'm more than willing to forgive your bad habits. Not only would I be a bad Christian for not doing so, I'd be a bad person! So...we'll wait. I'll keep happy by keeping YOU happy until three weeks from now where you can jump my bones and do me until the sun sets."

I'm very surprised when he stops crying, crawls up my body and kisses me hard. "Fuck I love you! I'll do as much as I can now to make it up to you. I'll never do it again, I promise."

"Now THAT'S my Kyle..." I say as we drive off into the sunset.

-.-

Author's Notes: D'aww…how sweet of Stanny!!

Phoenix II


End file.
